Tell me where the fellow Hill took you for this marriage ceremony. But Jack did not heed them. Jack was not half your age when he died. The man’s as obstinate as a mule. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. She dreaded living off the land again, like an animal, as she had done for dozens of years at a stretch. Then for a time she sat very still. The day was unseasonably humid and dark, a thick fog having descended over manicured lawns. He would be so disappointed.
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